Love Thy Neighbor
by Llmav
Summary: Ally is not a fan of Valentine's day.


**A/N; So reviews are nice. I'm not going to beg, but if you like it, leave me some Valentine's love...**

**This is in no way original and any similarity to any other story is probably not coincidental. But hey, it is kind of fluffy and a little smutty. **

She woke up with a pounding headache, the morning light piercing her eyes like needles, already in a bad mood as she dragged herself into the kitchen for some breakfast. Another reason to have a Valentine - someone to serve you breakfast in bed. And other things. In bed.

She opened the refrigerator and groaned. To say that she was uninspired would be an understatement. The view of the sad looking groceries reminded her of the current status of her love life. The milk had passed it's expiration date. She felt an odd connection to the near empty plastic gallon and didn't have the heart to throw it out.

Her head was pounding. Yes, she was slightly hung over. Ok, maybe a lot.

Guess first on her to-do-list on this god-forsaken day was a trip to the ever enchanting grocery store. Yippie. She was praying that she could keep from puking upon the sight of the Valentine's chocolate. And flowers. And cards. And basically anything that reminded her of love. A four letter curse word that she liked to keep out of her vocabulary.

She contemplated taking a shower before going, she really did, it's just that she was too freaking _lazy_ to do so. Who was she trying to impress anyways? It was not like she was going to run into freaking Prince Charming at the local grocery store.  
>The likelihood stretched from zero to nil as he didn't exist.<p>

The one block walk felt like a Marathon.

She walked around the aisles, randomly collecting items that most likely would go bad before she mustered up the motivation to actually cook. The closest she came to gourmet cuisine was watching reruns of cooking competitions on late night TV.  
>Her life was freaking fantastic.<p>

She began her return pilgrimage, the Miami heat creating small rivers of sweat down her sweats as she was lugging the heavy grocery bags.

She reached her building, panting as if there was a shortage on air supply, only to find that the elevator wasn't working. Of course. Why would it. It was Valentine's day, after all.

Fuck fuckity fuck.

She was fairly independent, a strong and adamant believer in equality, but in times like these, she really wished she had a pair of strong arms to help her out.

As an angel sent from above, he appeared in the staircase just when she had gathered up the strength to take the first few steps.

Her neighbor.

She moved to the side, trying to leave enough space for him to pass by when his cheery eyes met hers. They were more delectable than the boxes of chocolates she had dodged like bullets in the store. They were wells of melting caramel. The kind that she _wouldn't_ mind indulging in, though.

"Need some help?" He had such a nice voice. Among other things.

He was so so _so_ hot. She had drooled over him, mentally speaking (for the most part) since he had moved in a few months ago.

She also instinctively knew that he was everything she didn't need. A hot, charming playboy with charisma for miles and a lickable body, somehow managing to be every girls dream and simultaneous nightmare, a sure one-way ticket to regret-ville and a free-with-purchase broken heart.

She had already taken that ride a few times too many. The scenery started to get old.

Not that she knew him personally. She had just dated a few guys that could have been his long lost brothers, that's all.

She declined by shaking her head, not wanting to bother him. He was obviously on his way out.

"Don't be ridiculous." He grabbed all the bags in one sweep and started making his way back up the stairs, providing her with an eyeful of his disgustingly nice ass.

Yeah.

She realized that he knew what apartment was hers without her needing to tell him. She fumbled around in her purse for the keys, getting side tracked by the view of his rippling biceps, a result of the numerous heavy bags he was now carrying, the muscles playing under his skin. She reluctantly wondered what it would feel like to run her tongue over them, making those muscles contract in pleasure instead. And maybe some other muscles, too.

Yeah.

Help.

Right.

Her keys.

He entered her apartment as if it was his own, settling down the bags on the small kitchen counter with a loud bang.

"I don't think we have been formally introduced. I'm Austin."

"Ally."

Her hand was trembling slightly as she reached up to shake his hand. She almost expected some sort of electric shock. Instead, she became acutely aware of her sweat infused body. Oh God. She really should have taken a shower.

"Making dinner for the boyfriend?" He nodded towards the bags.

"I don't have one".

"Oh. Sorry. Thought I had seen you around with some brown haired guy."

"We broke up" No need to elaborate. It hadn't been a pretty split.

"Oh."

He looked around, as if to find _something_ to talk about to break the resulting awkward silence.

"Going somewhere?", now nodding towards the dress hanging off of the bookshelf.

She blushed. "Blind date".

She could tell he was holding back a laugh. She didn't blame him. Who in their right mind would go on a blind date on Valentine's day?

He probably had a sizzling hot date. She had seen the girls cumming and going from his apartment. It was like he was dating his way through the Victoria's Secret catalogue. Page by page.

"It's a favor for a friend". It was kind of the truth. Trish had threatened to drag her along on yet another fifth wheel date unless she agreed to go. Her best friend had insisted on setting her up with one of her boyfriend's friends. She may have been more excited, had it been the first time. Trish's boyfriend was eccentric, to say the least, and apparently all of his friends were made out of the same material. Namely insanity.

She couldn't say no, though. She had absolutely nothing better to do and her best friend knew it.

He held up his hands as if in defeat. "No need for explanations".

More awkward silence.

"Well, uhm...Thanks for the help."

He shrugged. "I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress."

Funny, she was a sucker for him. Or was it just that she wanted to suck him?

"Happy Valentines Day. Good luck on your date". He winked at her before walking out the door. She had been wrong. He wasn't an angel. He was the devil himself, disguised in God form, the spitting image of Adonis, his deity powers specialized in the area of how to turn the female species on beyond belief and lose all capability to form coherent thoughts in the process.

She blushed again. Of course. It was only in her daydreams that she was cool and collected.  
>_<p>

A few hours later, and she had finally managed to take a shower. Someone should give her the damn Nobel prize or something.

She was in the midst of perfecting her curls when a small knock on the door made her burn her finger on the hot iron. She flung the door opened, already mad as she assumed it was her annoying middle aged neighbor. The lady had a tendency to knock on her door at all hours, always with some ridiculous complaint.

"Can I borrow some eggs?" The blond had a sweet smile on his face, like a lost puppy begging for another treat.

She wanted to treat him, alright.

How did he know she would have some eggs? Right, he had probably been peeking through her grocery bags.

Snooping bastard.

"I guess I owe you since you helped me out earlier". He entered through the door, uninvited, following behind her as she headed for the kitchen, clearly too impatient to wait at the door.

She turned around quickly, catching him checking her out. Seemed that in some sense, he was a typical man, after all. She would be lying if she said that she minded, though. She could think of a million things that were more unpleasant than having his appreciative gaze running all over her body. In fact, it made all of her tingle, almost as if he had actually touched her.

Shit.

Now she couldn't get the image of him touching her out of her head.

"How many?"  
>"Huh?" She caught him off guard as he had been appreciating her ass...dress. Her dress.<br>"Eggs? How many?"  
>"Uhhhm...not sure."<br>"What are you making?"  
>"Chocolate chip cookies."<br>"Okay". She handed him the whole carton. She had absolutely no idea how many eggs he would need. The cooking shows generally included slightly more exotic recipes.  
>"For your <em>Valentine<em>?" She tried to not sound disgusted.  
>He smirked. "Yep".<br>Funny. The girls she had seen him with were definitely not eating cookies. Or anything else, for that matter.  
>_<p>

She entered the restaurant, immediately spotting her date by Trish's detailed description. For once, she wasn't wishing she was actually blind. This one was _cute_.

After a few minutes of introduction and polite ice-breakers, the conversation started to flow and the mental curses directed at Trish were farther and farther in between. She was actually having a half-decent time. Her date was adorable, not hot, the type that you would bring to meet your grandma, not fuck senseless in the back of a truck. In other words, exactly what she was looking for.

Before dessert, she excused herself to use the restroom.  
>Upon returning, she realized that her date was no longer at the table. Weird. He was probably in the bathroom as well.<p>

20 minutes later, and she decided to walk around. She found him at the bar, in the midst of taking a shot with a blonde, skinny girl in minimal clothing. He flinched when he saw her, almost as if he had forgotten that she was there. She realized that there were a few empty shot glasses on the bar in front of him.

"Oh, Cassidy, this is..." his voice trailing off as he clearly failed to remember her name.

She returned to the table, picking up her purse and catching a glimpse of the two of them obscenely making out up against the bar, his hand already under her skirt, before she left.  
>_<p>

She was outside her door, once again fumbling through her purse for the damn keys, tears streaming down her face in exasperation.

"Are you ok?" His voice startled her as she hadn't seen him.

"I'm fucking peachy, these are tears of joy and happiness".

He just stood there, by his door, clearly not sure of what to do.  
>She was growing angrier by the second. At life. At men. At all men.<p>

"Why do you guys do that?" Her voice was shaking slightly as she was still crying.  
>"What?" He almost sounded scared.<p>

"Act nice, at first, charming, but then in the end you're all just the same, just some type of animal. It's not that damn hard, you know. Just keep your dick in your pants, and stop being distracted by the greener grass or the easy fuck."

He approached her, a mix of surprise, amusement and sympathy on his face.  
>"Listen. You can't blame all men for something a few assholes chooses to do. Don't just assume that we are all the same. Assumptions are dangerous. They can get you into trouble. "<p>

Oh, she knew something that could get her into trouble. Him. Any time he wanted.

She was mad, infuriated, and she still wanted him badly.  
>When was she ever going to learn?<p>

He turned around, heading for his door, laughing before opening it. "I'm not used to women cursing at me. Other than in bed, of course". He smirked at her before closing the door behind him.

A small knock on the door tore her out of her state of sulking. She swore to God. That lady would be the death of her. Her TV wasn't even that loud.  
>She flung the door open, realizing that she was still holding the half empty wineglass in one hand.<p>

"Chocolate chip cookies?" His smile was more intoxicating than the just consumed wine.  
>She grabbed one from the reached forward plate without answering. He smiled and she almost lost the ability to breath.<br>"What happened to your _Valentine_?" She was still unable to utter the word without disgust.  
>He shrugged, as if he didn't know or didn't care. "No show".<br>Oh.

"Want to come in?" What the F was she doing?

Her. Drunk. Alone. With him. Probably not a good idea.

Or perhaps the best idea of all time.

He didn't hesitate, immediately entering and soon descending on her small couch, taking up most of the space. She squeezed into the corner, making an effort not to touch him.

He raised an eyebrow at her choice of programming.  
>"What?"<br>"Just didn't pin you as a sad love story type girl. Mind if I switch to something less depressing?"  
>"Be my guest."<p>

She hadn't really been watching. The bottom of the wine bottle was way more entertaining.

A couple of minutes passed and she had no idea what she had gotten herself into. Truth be told, she couldn't even tell what they were watching, as he now was the conductor of her train of thoughts and had a penchant for speeding.

She observed his profile. He was too preoccupied with the intricate plot of the film to notice. He was amazing. There was no other word. Did the guy have any flaws?  
>He probably had a small dick. Tiny. That must be it.<p>

He turned his face and met her eyes, clearly not as into the movie as he pretended to be. He smirked and she knew that he knew she was checking him out. Oh well.

She realized that she hadn't offered him anything to drink.  
>"Do you want anything? I don't know...water, wine..." <em>me<em>...wait, that last one was just a thought.

He agreed to some wine and she went to get another bottle, returning only to see that he had moved to the middle of the couch. It was now impossible to sit down without making physical contact. She plopped down next to him, their arms gracing, skin rubbing against skin and the hair on her arm standing up.

"So, another great Valentine's day, huh?" She tried to sound cheerful but failed miserably.  
>He laughed. "It's just another day, a made up holiday. Nothing to stress about. And mine just got a hundred times better since you invited me in." He smiled sincerely and her body was in desperate need of a fire hydrant.<p>

The conversation was easier after that, probably facilitated by the large consumption of wine. She realized he was fun. Really fun. She couldn't remember ever having this much fun. But then again, it seemed like she couldn't remember a lot of things at the moment. Like her resolution to stay away from insanely hot men, for example.

He made silly impressions of the bad actors in the cheesy Valentine commercials and her stomach hurt from laughing. She could love this man.  
>Wait.<br>What?

He reached for another cookie.  
>"You know the cookies are disgusting, right?"<br>He laughed as he tried to look offended but knew she was right.  
>"They're not my specialty."<br>"No shit"  
>"I have heard that it's the thought that counts."<br>She giggled. "If your date hadn't stood you up she would have left after eating one of those."  
>He looked at her with an smug smile, almost as if she was an idiot.<br>"There was no date."  
>She could feel her mouth physically dropping open.<br>"What? Then who did you bake those pathetic excuse of cookies for?"  
>"You."<p>

Speechless.

"Blind date on Valentine's? Bound to end in tears. I couldn't think of a better way to cheer you up."  
>She could think of a few. They all involved him naked.<p>

He had made cookies for her. From scratch. Holy.  
>All of a sudden they were the best cookies she had ever had.<p>

"So you didn't have a date?" Her voice trembled a little.  
>"No"<br>"Why?"  
>He ran his fingers through his hair. "The only girl I'm interested in was on a stupid blind date."<p>

Her heart was suddenly a contender in the Indy 500. Last lap. About to cross the finish line.

He was facing her, their noses inches away from touching, she could almost taste his breath, a quick thought about drowning in his eyes flying through her mind before their lips were on each other.

He tasted like burnt chocolate chip cookies, and wine, and something else that she had been craving but couldn't put her finger on. Oh, right. Man. It was the most tantalizing flavor she had ever encountered, creating an immediate, blink of an eye addiction and she immediately wanted another fix. Or two.

They broke away, reluctantly. His eyes were no longer joyful, but hooded, the easy going glint that she had been treated to all day slowly faded, replaced by dark lust.

Before she knew it, they were laying down on the small couch, he was on her, fully covering her with his tall body, his tongue making love to her mouth as she was running her hands all over him. Holy mother and her mother too.  
>It wasn't romantic, it was urgent, as if they had some type of deadline to meet, as if soon her pumpkin would turn into a car and her shoes would be too big. Something like that, she couldn't really remember. She was a little rusty on her fairy tales.<p>

He groaned her name, almost as if in pain. She realized that he actually might be, judging from the strained fabric covering his crouch area. Oh God. That bulge was no hill. It was a freaking Everest.

She had always wanted to go mountain climbing.

Guess he was flawless, after all.

She realized that somehow, her dress was now scattered on the floor and his fingers were tracing the outlines of her underwear while his tongue were tracing the outline of her bra.

Yeah.

His shirt soon met the same fate as her dress and she reached for his pants, unbuttoning them, rushed, needing to feel him. His finger dug into her bare skin when she rubbed him, palming him through his tight boxers.  
>She was so turned on. The way his hips moved into her, she couldn't think, she couldn't take it. She needed him. All of him. Now.<p>

He suddenly popped up, as if he had just remembered something, getting off of her and moving away. "I should get going", zipping his pants up and flinging his shirt back over his broad shoulders.

Less then a minute later, he was out the door with a quick "See you" as his only goodbye.

She woke up, in her bed, her head throbbing as she slowly but surely recalled the previous night, the throbbing soon replaced by all consuming dread.  
>She had thrown herself at the hottest guy she had ever met in real life, practically begged for him to sleep with her, and he had turned her down. Walked away from her when she was half-naked.<br>It made all her other shitty V-days pale in comparison.  
>What the hell had she been thinking? Obviously, he didn't want her. She was nothing like those other girls. And the fact that she had lost all sense of dignity upon his touch made her want to scream out loud.<p>

She could have sworn that he had wanted her, though. The desire in his eyes, the way his hands had moved all over her body, the way he had groaned her name, the way his steel hard dick felt against her leg... Guess her radar was off. It must have been the wine in combination with loneliness.

Crap. He hadn't even slept with her and he still somehow managed to break her heart.

And what was worse, there was no way of avoiding him.

She could already picture it. She would see him in the hallway, they would share a shy "Hi" or maybe even worse, he would ignore her completely.  
>Would she have to see him bring home other girls? No. No no no no no.<br>And why did that physically hurt her?

She dragged herself out of bed, her head pounding from embarrassment rather than the alcohol. But she needed water. And she had to get ready. She had a brunch date with Trish.

The knock on the door was loud and made her head hurt even more. What now? What time was it? Did the lady ever sleep?

"Do you have any milk?" He looked as chipper as always.  
>Was he really not going to acknowledge the previous night? She just nodded, not sure whether she should be grateful or regretful that she had decided to stock up on groceries. He walked by her, into her kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed the gallon of milk, nodded a thanks and left without another word.<p>

She was seldom dumb-founded. But then again, she seldom made out and almost slept with strangers, neither. Guess this was a week of unusualities.

She had just finished her shower, unable to find the ease that she was looking for, still wrapped up in her towel as she heard another knock on the door.  
>Awesome. Of course. The one day that her flaky friend was actually on time.<br>"Just come in, I just have to get..."

Not Trish. _Definitely_ not Trish.

He was back. And he had brought, by the looks of it, two plates of handmade pancakes.

"_This_ is my specialty".

He entered, once again uninvited, the aroma from the pancakes mixed with syrup hitting her nostrils and making her salivate. She was unsure of it was just from the pancakes or if it was just the general affect he had on her.

He took a seat at her small kitchen table, looking oddly out of place as his long legs hit the bottom of the table.

"I, uhm...I need to get dressed."

"But they will get cold. Come on. Eat first." Puppy eyes. Sexy puppy eyes. How was that even possible?

She sat down, still wrapped up tightly in her towel. Not that she was worried that he would sneak a peek. He had made it ridiculously clear that he wasn't interested in what she had to offer.

She took a bite and realized that she was chewing on heaven. "They're delicious." Reluctantly. She didn't really want to talk to him.

His face lit up.

"I have practiced them to perfection."

"So do you make these for all your...dates?"

"No, they usually don't stick around for breakfast. I sometimes make them for my mom, though." So he was sexy, adorable, funny and sweet. Made it difficult to hate him.

She finished eating in silence, acutely aware that he was observing her with a half-confused expression on his face, as if he was trying to figure her out.

She stood up, her legs kind of wobbly, heading towards her room to get dressed.

"You know I left yesterday because you were drunk, right? I was about to fuck you so hard, right there on your living room carpet like the animal you accused me of being. I kind of had to get out of here before I couldn't stop myself and do things to you that you would regret today."

What? He had left because he didn't want to take advantage of her? Shit. She had really wanted to be taken advantage of. Preferably more than once.

"Whatever". She internally applauded herself for managing to sound neutral as she entered her room.

She was observing herself in her bedroom mirror when he appeared in the reflection behind her. She jumped in surprise, almost resulting in the towel dropping to the floor.  
>His mouth was by her ear, his hot breath on her body not affecting her the slightest. Oh, who was she kidding. She was already wet.<p>

"Don't be mad at me. You gave me an earful of how all guys are assholes. I thought you wanted a man that could keep his dick in his pants - I actually believe that is a direct quote. So I did. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk away from you last night? I haven't slept since I left, just been in bed thinking of you, not being able to erase the thought of my cock moving inside of you from my mind."

She swallowed hard, still not meeting his eyes in the mirror. She had obviously not made herself clear. She did not want him to control himself around her. Just around all other females. Gosh.

Somehow, his lips were now making contact with the skin on her neck. Huh.

"I wanted your first time with me to be something you look back upon without...any...regrets", his words coming out inconstantly as he was kissing, licking, nibbling on her neck in quick bites.

"I thought you didn't want me. I've seen the girls you bring home, it made sense..."  
>He pressed his unbelievably hard cock into her back.<p>

"Convinced yet that I fucking want you?"She blushed at his bluntness. It did nothing but turn him on further. She was gorgeous. He was still incredibly impressed with himself for having walked away the previous night. There was no way that was ever going to happen again.

The towel was now on the floor. Let's call it by accident.

He defeatedly groaned, loudly. "Fuck". His large hands wandered to her breasts, making her nipples hard upon his touch, massaging while inadvertently embracing her from behind, his mouth back on her neck. He couldn't help it, his lips were drawn to her as if they were a pair of magnets.

She moaned, involuntarily, as he began caressing every part of her body with the tips of his fingers, his lips still glued to her, turning her on, not only by the physical sensations but by the visual show playing out in front of her, a show where she played the lead role and simultaneously had a first row seat.

His fingers were soon between her legs, stroking her, a smirk on his face as he realized how soaked she was. He let two fingers slip into her, moving slowly as she gasped, impatient for more, then rubbing her clit in slow circles and relishing in her whimpers, their eyes burning into each others in the mirror reflection.

She turned around to undress him, needing to feel him, managing to get him completely naked in record time, then grabbing him, stroking him, pumping him, making him forget time and place and his ridiculous middle name, his groans a never-ending string of obscenities as he continued to finger fuck her into oblivion.

"Take me. Fuck me. Please." He had never heard anything sexier.

There was no way he was going to make it all the way to her bed. So he took her up against the wall mirror, her back pressed up against the glass, his breath creating fog on it as he meticulously worked his dick into her tightness, his hands digging into her ass cheeks like claws while her body made sweat marks on their reflection. Her legs were wrapped around him as he was pumping her slowly but deeply, fucking away her headache with relentless thrusts, replacing it with clouded thoughts and awe-infused mantras of pleasure as she was cursing at him for a very different reason than the previous night.

He lifted her, still with his cock deep inside of her, moving them towards the bed, laying her down on her back and immediately setting a pace that racing horses would have a difficult time keeping up with.

This. Was. Heaven.

She had never experienced anything like it. His dick was hitting her hard, pushing her towards release one thrust at a time, her panting as if she was running a race, until she joyfully reached the finish line, letting go in a mind-blackening orgasm.

Holy shit.

He waited until she rode lit her orgasm, then swirled them around in one quick motion, her now on top of him, straddling him, riding him hard, her boobs bouncing with each thrust and his hands holding her hips steady in place. He reached up to rub her clit, making her cum undone for a second time almost immediately, her pussy hugging him in wet embraces while she was screaming out his name. He wanted to, but couldn't hold back any longer, soon cumming inside of her, pumping her full with his most delicious treat yet.

Even better than his heavenly pancakes.

They spent a few minutes on their backs, panting hard, before they got dressed, awkwardly, both of them unsure of what was to come next.

A small knock on the front door killed the silence, and she opened it to reveal her flustered best friend.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I..." Her mouth dropped open at the sight of Austin.

He shook her hand, introducing himslef,mbefore walking out, heading towards his apartment.

Trish was still staring, her mouth still hanging open. Way to be subtle.

The door shut close behind him.

"So that's not Dallas."  
>"Nope."<br>"Spill."

He was in his apartment, feeling lonely. It was ridiculous. He had just left her apartment a few hours ago.

But he already wanted more. Of her. He had realized less than thirty seconds after stepping out of her apartment that he wanted all of her.

A small knock on his door made his pulse speed up. That better be her or whomever was on the other side would be greeted with a punch to the face.

"Do you have any sugar?" Her voice was seductive and anything but innocent.

He smirked, pointing to his mouth, lifting her up so she could reach him. The kiss was only half-way sweet yet managed to perfectly satisfy what she was craving.

And he smiled as he carried his future wife into his bedroom.


End file.
